


Soulmarked

by AllOfTheFanfic



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Cutting, M/M, Soulmates AU, self harm tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:32:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllOfTheFanfic/pseuds/AllOfTheFanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus hates the idea of soulmates and being claimed by someone. So when he does get his soul mark all he can feel is anger. And more anger when a sad blue eyed boy appears before him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Soulmarked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10180388) by [DaintyCrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyCrow/pseuds/DaintyCrow)



> Kind of AU, mentions of self harm.  
> All of the angst!  
> Sorry

He hated soulmates. He hated the idea of soulmates. Hated the idea that you weren’t free to choose, free to live. Magnus was happy that he didn’t have a soulmark. No name on his body to claim him. Until one day he did. He woke up and there it was, just above his hip. A name claiming him as someone’s.

  
“It had to be a Lightwood.” He rolled his eyes and scowled at the name. Alexander Gideon Lightwood. He waved his fingers, making the mark disappear under glamour. Magnus refused to let it change his life. He didn’t move away, he didn’t avoid people he just flat out ignored the mark.

  
He was immortal and refused to believe that in his long life only one person could match him. So he dated and loved. And now he was determined to avoid the shadowhunter family altogether just waiting for it to pass over and refusing to be claimed. He also hated how when the boy grew older marks appeared on his skin, sometimes accompanied by pain. “Not angelic runes, that’s for sure.” He scowled at his forearm glaring at the thin lines. He waved his fingers, blue magic dancing on them and the lines disappeared. Magnus wasn’t sure if he healed the boy as well but he wasn’t bothered enough to check. Of course he knew exactly where to find him, so he avoided those places. It’s not like he was a frequent visitor to the Institute before anyways.

  
The nights when he woke up cold and sad (not even from his own dreams) made him hate the soulmate even more. Magnus had his own reasons for nightmares and cold sweat, he didn’t need more. How dare the boy think he had some claim on him? Some mortal shadowhunter boy, from a shadowhunter family that tried to kill him more than a few times, no less. Magnus was sure he could already see him, all arrogant as all Nephilim and if not hating, then looking down on downworlders like him.

  
And all the ignoring and avoiding was going well until a group of shadowhunters (and a mundane?) turned up on his doorstep. Magnus looked them over trying to figure out if Alexander was among them. The blond one was obviously not him, and the mundie was out of the question, so his eyes rested on the boy at the back of the group. His head down, messy hair and an old worn out sweater. And then sad blue eyes were looking at him as if seeing through him. Magnus glared back and the boy hid his face again. The warlock made sure to tell the shadowhunters whatever they wanted just to get them out of his apartment (and life) as fast as possible. So what if they boy looked and acted nothing like the Nephilim he knew, he still didn’t want to do anything with him. He didn’t like how those blue eyes looked at him, as if seeing through all of his pretenses and into his soul. He didn’t like how they seem to know him even if they’ve never met before. Magnus would not be claimed by a shadowhunter.

  
After that encounter he kept waking up in cold sweat and unbearable sadness in his soul. He pushed it away, refusing to acknowledge that he knew how the boy felt. The scars seemed to appear more often on his body and he kept healing them, annoyed. “If he wants scars so bad why doesn’t he just go hunt demons? Seems like a way more productive pastime.” Magnus would think to himself. Every time the scars would appear and he’d have to heal them, he’d get mad at the boy. He can go ahead and mark his own skin all he wanted, but Magnus didn’t want these scars, didn’t want to see or feel them appear, he wanted nothing to do with the boy.

  
So naturally he was beyond pissed when the said boy turned up on his doorstep uninvited. He ignored the sudden feeling of happiness and hope when he opened the door.  
“What.” Was the only word Magnus hissed when he saw the boy.

  
“U-um. I’m Alec. Alexander Lightwood?” The boy looked uncomfortable and a blush crept on his face as he shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. Magnus did not miss that he was playing with the ends of his sweater sleeves nervously. The warlock had to admit that Alexander was beautiful. Even beneath his tattered clothes and hair that seemed like it never met a hairbrush. He also had to admit that blue eyes and black hair was his favorite combination. And this boy was acting nothing like a shadowhunter would. He was all shy and seemed like all he wanted to do was hide. That did not make much of a difference.

  
“So?” Magnus raised a perfect eyebrow and watched as the boy flushed more, trying to calm himself by looking away.

“I have Magnus Bane as my soulmate and I thought-“

  
“Oh I don’t care what you thought.” Magnus’ icy tone made the boy shrink back. “I don’t care who you are or whose name is on your body. I refuse to be owned by someone. I refuse to be claimed by a shadowhunter. Is that clear enough, boy?” As the warlock spoke the young Nephilim kept looking at him with those sad eyes. Shock written all over his face. Magnus could see how easily the boy’s heart broke and for the first time he felt sympathy for Alexander. The said boy was now reaching for him desperately.

  
“What- please don’t say that, Magnus- Please- I need-“ The warlock slapped his hand away harshly, ignoring the color appearing at their hands.

  
The older man just scoffed “You need? Of course, the nephilim never consider downworlders as people.” Magnus almost growled as the boy shrunk back, but he kept glaring at him with ice in his eyes. “I’ll say this again. I don’t care who you are. I will not be claimed like some pet for your entertainment. I don’t care about you. I want nothing to do with you. Go. Away.”

  
His voice was steady poison seeping into Alec’s body. His head was bowed while he listened, trying to hide away. And when he looked up those once sad blues were empty.  
“I understand. Sorry to bother you.” And with that Alec turned on his heel and walked off. Magnus closed the door to his loft scowling at the wall opposite from him. Coldness was seeping through him now, he wasn’t entirely sure if it was Alexanders feelings or his own. Looking down at his fingers he glared at the color that stayed where he had touched the boy. Blue, like his magic and like those sad blue eyes. Well, once sad, the last time he saw them they were just empty. He shuddered seeing them behind his eyelids as he closed his own eyes. Magnus pointedly ignored the overwhelming sadness that was washing over him. There were other feeling too, but he refused to take any interest in them, burying himself in his work. That always helped when this happened (and it seemed to happen more often these days).

  
He worked for hours, trying to decipher some old runes until a few dark drops caught his attention. Blood. His blood. Raising his eyebrows he looked at his hands and gasped. They were covered with scars and slashes, some were bleeding. Magnus quickly worked his magic, healing the wounds but new were appearing fast. His pulse was getting quicker with panic as he registered that the sadness had spread through his whole body, a cold feeling. Still healing himself of the marks he registered the other emotions that were obviously not his own. Fright, worthlessness… Rejection. He’d never felt such a strong feeling of rejection before. His fingertips were going numb now and he was getting really worried. Surely, the boy wouldn’t try to kill himself over this, right? The nephilim always scorned those who took their life, just like those who betrayed their friends, turned on other nephilim or… loved the same sex or downworlders… Magnus was trying to calm himself now slowly realizing what those nights waking up in cold sweat or sadness in his heart meant.

  
Lightwoods, of all people, would have rejected the idea that their son was gay. And that he had a downworlder as a soulmate. He had a feeling the boy never told anyone, scared of his own family and what they would do to him. More gashes appeared on his skin, dangerously close to his veins and he healed them as fast as he could. He was feeling very cold. For the first time he wondered if what he was feeling was exactly how the boy felt or if it was toned down.

  
Either way he had to find Alec and stop him. He didn’t want the boy to die. He knew where the boy would be so he quickly teleported next to the Institute, trying to stay hidden. Magnus was too aware of the cold numbness that was seeping through him, making him worry so much more. He checked with a tracking spell just where the boy was and teleported right to his room. In all the years that he lived not much had shocked him as much as what he saw.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst, mention of self harm.

The boy was sitting on his bed, his back resting on a wall, a bloody knife in his hand, gashes all over his hands. And blood, so much blood. The older man swallowed a gasp and walked up to Alec as he watched him with glassy eyes. Magnus could see the dried tear streaks on his cheeks and his pulse jumped. Blue fire danced on his fingertips as he kneeled down and started healing the nephilim without a word. Blue eyes were watching him intently and his heart hurt to see them with no emotion.

 

Guilt was eating at him now, making him bite his bottom lip, an old habit he was sure he had kicked. What had he done to the boy? The warlock was the one person Alec was counting on to understand him and he sought him out. Instead Magnus had rejected him just like everyone else. As his hands ghosted over the other males, closing up the gashes and healing the scars, Magnus watched as the colors danced on their skin, mostly hues of blue, appearing and disappearing where they touched. But they never disappeared off their fingertips where the pair first touched. Magnus felt another pang of guilt as he remembered slapping the boy away.

 

And then a thought hit him. All the times he felt angry at his soulmate. All the times he rejected the thought and the boy in his mind. Did Alec feel that too? He must have. And yet he still sought him out, hoping. Magnus could feel nothing but guilt now. How many times did he break the poor boys heart?

 

There was a rasping intake of breath next to him. “Don’t.” The older man looked up now, looked into the beautiful blues that were watching him intently. Alec was obviously feeling a little better physically, judging just from his breathing. Then the boy just shook his head and talked in a raspy voice.

 

“Don’t feel guilty. Please. I-I understand why you rejected me. I should have predicted that.” Magnus was looking at him with shock written all over his face. For the first time in years he found himself speechless.

 

“I’m no one, just some nephilim boy, not even the best one. I’m plain and never stand out and I like it that way, I hide and you don’t. You’re Magnus Bane, the high warlock.” The boy finished as if that explained everything. Some feeling was starting to return to his eyes, Magnus noted that and felt relieved. Now his eyes were sad again, but it was improvement from the glassy, empty ones. It was him who spoke now, having finished healing the blue eyed boy.

 

“That’s no excuse. I was so conceited that I never stopped to think about what you were feeling.” He shook his head trailing his eyes down to where his fingers were rubbing at Alec’s forearms slowly, as if checking if he completely healed him or just refusing to break the contact with him. “I am so sorry for being so harsh. I was only thinking of myself” He was biting his lip again and was worried that he still felt so cold. Magic danced on his hands again as he ran them over Alexander’s, checking for more injuries and finding none he looked up at the boy again.

 

“I don’t really have an excuse to why I acted that way. Refusing you over and over, ignoring and blocking you out. I have no idea how that must have felt. I refused the idea that I can be marked or claimed by someone. Especially someone mortal. I did not want to live the rest of my life mourning someone I didn’t even choose myself. I refused to let this soulmark control me.” He laughed sadly “And I never realized how much I let it control me. Does that make any sense?”

 

He was watching as the boy bit his lip, the tiniest movement of his lips, a whisper of a smile appeared and he nodded his head “Yes, it does actually.” Alec’s gaze was so intense on him, waiting for Magnus to decide what to do next. The warlock realized that the boy wasn’t pushing him in any direction, just waiting.

 

“You are so different from the few nephilim I knew.” Magnus had no idea what made him say that but the tiny blush that appeared on Alec’s cheeks was a nice reward. The boy drew up his knees to himself, as if trying to hide, making Magnus curse himself and anyone else who didn’t appreciate the boy and made him act this way. Surely this instinct to hide couldn’t be just shyness.

 

He felt himself sighing softly, sitting on the floor next to Alec’s bed, giving him space but not letting go of his hand. Magnus was watching the colors on their skin now, as they slowly appeared and disappeared calmly. Then Alec’s hand was moving, withdrawing, making the warlock panic as he looked into the younger boy’s eyes.

 

“Um. You don’t have to…” He looked away, hiding behind his hair, worrying at his lower lip. “I know you don’t want to do anything with me. And I’m sorry I acted so stupid, I didn’t realize the marks appeared on you too. I won’t do it again, so…” Magnus felt panic wash over him as the cold returned.

 

“No. I am not leaving you again. Not after how I made you feel. I may not be excited about being claimed, but I want to make it up to you. I’d also be an idiot for letting someone like you go.” A smirk started playing on his lips at the last part. He watched as a blush crept over the boys face.

 

Magnus concentrated on what he was feeling now. The coldness was slowly retracting and there were traces of something calmer, hope? He did feel more peaceful now that he knew Alexander was safe and feeling better.

 

“I-I like your eyes.” The phrase was so unexpected and quiet that the warlock almost missed it. He looked to the nephilim, sadly he was turned away trying to hide his blush. The compliment and who it was coming from was so unexpected that it made Magnus laugh, making Alec turn to him at the sound, blushing more. “Sorry, that was stupid…” the young boy was biting his lip again, attracting Magnus’ attention to his lips.

 

“Calm down, Alexander, I was just a bit surprised. No one ever said that about my eyes before.” Magnus purred calmly. Mostly people thought his eyes were weird. That seemed to calm the boy down a bit. The warlock was itching to touch him again, but he gave the boy his space. He didn’t know how to behave around him.

 

And that was not like Magnus. How many times today had this boy pushed him out of his comfort zone? He was watching his hands now, as the younger boy rubbed them together, like he didn’t know what to do with them. Magnus was hoping he wasn’t making Alec uncomfortable. As he watched the boy shift he almost missed how his blush deepened as he whispered “Can I hold your hand?” Magnus smiled at that, it seemed like Alec knew exactly how he felt, and reached his hand out, wrapping their fingers together brushing his thumb over the other’s in calming circles.

 

The physical connection seemed to calm them both down. The warlock was watching him now, doubting if he should ask the question on his tongue. Alec seemed calm enough and he could always apologize if he didn’t want to answer.

 

“Will you tell me about how it was for you?” Magnus was looking into his eyes, asking the boy to share. Alec seemed to tense at first, but then his eyes turned soft and he relaxed, as if he had waited and wanted for someone to ask the question. And then he talked, telling Magnus everything in a soft voice that sometimes cracked under emotion. And when Alec was done they talked more, sharing simple things, Magnus even made the boy laugh a few times and he was very proud of that. The warlock smiled when he noticed that Alec was getting sleepy, it was adorable how he was fighting sleep just so they could talk more. Magnus made the young nephilim lay down then, still holding his hand.

 

Their conversations slowly stopped, growing into comfortable silence and the older man was not surprised when he turned and saw Alexander asleep. It just made him smile more at how young and calm the nephilim looked while asleep. It was almost painful to let go of the boys hand and leave him, but he knew he had to. Only the warm feeling starting to spread in his chest made him strong enough to do that. As he teleported away from Alec’s room he could only smirk at the thought of the small paper note that was left on the boy’s pillow, where he would see it first thing waking up.

 

_Call Me_


End file.
